


Geborgenheit

by TheProfoundSilence



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Also a good brother, Brotherhood AU, By Ridley C. James and Tidia on fanfiction.net, Caleb is a Good Friend, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Healing, Hurt Dean Winchester, Kid Dean Winchester, Mute Dean Winchester, Sam is a Good Brother, Traumatized Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 05:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14489454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheProfoundSilence/pseuds/TheProfoundSilence
Summary: Brotherhood AU. Geborgenheit (German): The feeling of safety that comes from being with loved ones. In the wake of his greatest tragedy, little Dean Winchester finds things worth fighting for.





	Geborgenheit

**Author's Note:**

> Brotherhood AU  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. Supernatural belongs to Kripke and Ridley C. James and Tidia on fanfiction.net are to thank for the wonderful brotherhood AU. Thank you for allowing me to put my own spin on it.  
> Geborgenheit (German): The feeling of safety that comes from being with loved ones. In the wake of his greatest tragedy, little Dean Winchester finds things worth fighting for.

Caleb jumped down the last few steps, running to the kitchen and frowning when he didn’t find Deuce there. It hadn’t been that long but the adults had all witnessed with wonder as the previously normally walled-off Caleb Reaves had displayed a three-sixty in his demeanour around the new arrival: a silent and very hurting Dean Winchester.

So, it wasn’t a surprise to see them together. Dean had finally found a kindred soul to share his pain with, one who would guide him and care for him, a best friend and protector. And Caleb had finally found a little brother, one who needed him to chase all the monsters away.

The Triad had watched as the boys had healed through their bonding, indeed themselves growing closer in the short while they had spent together.

Caleb rushed from the kitchen and stopped short in the doorway to his room, where he found Dean sitting cross-legged on the floor near his bed, poring over a mess of sheets and notebooks. Caleb sighed in relief. He hadn’t panicked yet but it was definitely a close call when Dean had somehow sneaked out from the Hunter’s Tomb alone and his fragile mental state only made the worry more pronounced and justified.

“What are you doing here, you brat?” Well, no one said he had to talk nice just because the kid was under his wing.

Dean looked up with a toothy smile and Caleb reflexively smiled back before putting on a scowl; _he had a bad boy reputation to uphold, Goddamnit_. But Dean said nothing, which was unfortunately still the norm, a testament to the little progress they’d made in that department so far. They still had a long way to go; recovery was no highway, but more of a narrow dirt trail. Despite teaching Dean sign language and begging him to interact, it was hit-and-miss on most days;he would still barely communicate even on the good ones.

Mac had warned them to be patient with Dean, and as much as Caleb just wanted to magically take away all of Dean’s pain in a snap, he kept finding that Mac was right. Even if it meant he had to suffer more for it, it was so worth it. Even if Deuce never talked again, long as he was smiling and laughing, the rest of the world could go fuck themselves. Besides, Caleb knew he shouldn't force Dean out of his shell, he'd open up when he was ready for it.

The grown-ups clearly didn’t think the same, if their constant and annoyingly persistent attempts at getting him to communicate were any indication. But then again, no matter how cool he found the members of the Brotherhood to be, Caleb had learned that all grownups were full of shit. They liked to pretend they knew everything, but they really didn’t.

John’s eyes had once eyed him distrustfully, wary of the stranger who had befriended his young son. His less-than-stellar introduction to the Brotherhood and the sulky, pissed off teenage persona he put up to ward people off after being hurt time and again probably didn’t endear him to the disciplined Marine either.

But, as time had passed, John had grown surprisingly fond of him and more assured of his abilities and his unwavering commitment to Dean. He hadn’t been entrusted with a babysitting gig just yet, but Caleb had no doubt it wasn’t too far.

Caleb slowly settled down by Dean’s side on the floor, facing the same way as him and crossing his legs like his, and brought out his own homework. He’d learnt over time that imitating a person’s posture went a long way in making them subconsciously feel comfortable around him.

And Caleb knew to be patient with Dean for him to feel at ease enough to interact with him. Actively pushing him just caused him to retreat farther back into his shell; but doing nothing but staring at him, just waiting for him to make a move was too much pressure for Deuce, and just caused him to flee.

Merely sitting by his side and minding your own business, letting him know you were there for him yielded much better results. The others didn’t understand it. But Caleb did. The trauma he had himself been victimised by years ago as a child had given him a stronger instinct on how to help his little brother through his pain.

Indeed, many a late nights, when the demons came out to play, Deuce would grab his copy of the Iliad, courtesy of Jim,and pad over to Caleb’s room. Not for him to magically make it all better - even at 5, Dean knew the limits better than to think that. But, in that liminal space, it was an unspoken compromise between them. Dean could let his guard down and be a child for just the night, for Caleb; and in return Caleb would shelter him from all the big bad wolves that haunted his sleep. The feeling of safety and contentment would be made even more potent by the reassurance that nothing could get the rest of his ragtag family here in the protective shield of the Farm.

Sometimes, on the really terrible nights, they’d sneak out and camp out for a little while outside little Sammy’s door. Deuce’s constant nighttime terrors had convinced the adults to separate the two siblings, neither of whom was happy about it.

Caleb had been a little apprehensive when Sammy had crawled over to Dean during one of his ‘episodes’. Mac often said that children dealt with grief differently, and Dean chose to retreat to himself to process things; sometimes not resurfacing back to their plane of reality for hours, unresponsive and comatose to them.

So, when the excitable baby had bounded over to Dean, he’d been concerned, especially considering that loud voices just caused Deuce to retreat further. But it seems that Sammy had sensed his brother’s fragile state, gently hugging him and urging Caleb to do the same until Dean could return to them.

Dean had teased him mercilessly for that. He had to bribe Dean not to let that slip, and ruin his hardass Hunter-wannabe façade.

When Dean wanted something, he’d run straight to Caleb who, he knew, wouldn’t trivialise his issues but pay attention. And so he’d also show him his favourite books and stories: The Iliad andOrion, The Hunter were the current obsessions. He’d get him to read them to him, and in his own way had started sharing more of himself with Caleb.

Caleb felt so humbled by his trust, so human, worthy of love once again.

After his mother’s death, Caleb had thought a part of himself lost forever, as if he could never be whole again. He’d become detached and numb, feral and something less than human and had come to think that, especially after learning of his heritage, it was all he was destined to be.

Mac was a wonderful father and John a strict but undeniably loving mentor, both of whom had never made him feel anything less than their own. But he owed his humanity to Dean. Deuce was the one who had brought him back to light and happiness and was the reason he could cherish what he had.

He owed a debt to Dean that he could never realistically repay, but he was gonna try nonetheless.

Caleb deliberately didn’t look up when Deuce shifted his attention from his sheets on which he was planning God-knows-what. Last time, he had been planning battle strategies, at which Caleb had stared dumbfounded, starting to get angered at John’s audacity.

But, John had looked just as, if not even more flabbergasted. He had then turned to Mac, who was staring pensive at Dean’s sheets undoubtedly trying to psychoanalyze Dean and not liking what he found, and asked if battle strategies could be genetically passed down, or if Dean was a psychic and picking up on his moods.

John had given him a classic bitch face in response, made even more potent by Sam imitating him, where he was nestled in Mac’s arms. Pastor Jim had then turned the corner and asked Dean how his battles were going and Dean had perked up and had snatched his sheets from their hands, and ran out to play with the Guardian.

Nobody ever made the mistake of asking again.

Dean looked up from his sheets and stared around, starting to get a little restless.

“Something you want, Deuce?” Dean whimpered and suddenly started crying softly. Caleb grimaced at the sound. Dean rarely cried, but when he did, it was always muted and timid. Never meant to be heard by anyone outside of whom he had chosen to open up to.

He sometimes wanted to ask Mac what it meant in that crazy psychobabble speak of his, but it was supposed to be their secret and it felt like a betrayal even thinking of invading Dean’s privacy like that.

He swiftly locked the door and gathered Dean in his arms when Dean moved to hug him (chick flick moments rules were temporarily suspended). Last thing he wanted was someone walking in on them and ruining what little progress they had made.

“What’s wrong today, Dean?” Caleb asked, knowing he wouldn’t get an answer, but trying nonetheless.

It wasn’t about the day sometimes, Caleb knew from experience. Seemingly mundane things like the smell of freshly mowed grass, sound of laughter, or even a melody could turn the tale back. All remnants of a distant past never wholly forgotten, reminding the weary survivors of the Before.

Caleb knew that water symbolized the end of happy times, the Deuce card reminded him of his little brother, and these associations though painful were bearable.

The truly horrendous ones were when a song he had never even heard of before or just something casual that was said in passing brought him back to the Before. It was unexpected and terrible with the fierce nostalgia it brought back.

He set Deuce onto the bed and picked out his dog eared and well-loved copy of The Three Musketeers from the bedstand, opening it to the page they’d left it at the last time.

He laid back onto the bed, Caleb softly reading from The Three Musketeers, the Deuce card on the night stand and Dean curled protectively into his side, his little head tucked in Caleb’s shoulder.

Caleb put an arm around his little brother, feeling loved and adored and responding in kind. He wanted every clock to stop right where it was, to neither go forward nor run backward, to stay bound to this one serene moment. And for that slow, soft night, the world listened.

**Author's Note:**

> So, a cute magical moment between the future Guardian and his Knight. A huge shout out to all who’ve worked with or contributed to the Brotherhood AU. Let me know what you think of it. Thanks to all those who appreciated my previous works. It means the world to me.


End file.
